


Fear of Failure

by bearonthecouch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Clone Wars, Gen, Jedi Training (Star Wars), Pre-Order 66
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23551243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: “I have to be a Jedi,” he demanded, his eyes imploring Master Tapal. “I don't know how to be anything else.”
Relationships: Cal Kestis & Jaro Tapal
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	Fear of Failure

“I can't do this!” Cal yelled, after he'd tried and failed more than a dozen times to complete the task his Master had set for him. A seemingly simple task. “Reach my position,” Master Tapal had said. And he watched patiently, hands behind his back, expression calm, as his Padawan failed repeatedly.

Young Cal was frustrated, even angry, at himself and at his Master for setting an impossible challenge, for moving the goalposts every time he thought he'd found a way forward. The emotions swirling within him made it difficult for him to command the Force, and his own certainty of failure turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy. He _knew_ how to use the Force to carry his body in a leap, upward to high-floating platforms or across the gaps of empty space between those hovering floors. But he wasn't waiting long enough to get the timing right. And so he fell, over and over, and over again.

“Have patience, my young Padawan,” Jaro Tapal advised.

Cal scowled, clenched his hands into tight fists, and set off at a run before hurling himself toward the first floating platform and jumping, using the Force to lift himself up and reaching out to catch the handholds set into the side of the plasteel cube. He pulled himself up, hand over hand, and stood atop the platform, glaring at his next target. He took a deep breath, and ran forward once again.

Cal was, without question, physically capable of completing the challenge. So when he mistimed the jump and fell again, landing hard on the ship's decking beneath him, his fury at his own weakness grew all consuming.

Up in the observation chamber from which he'd been watching, Jaro Tapal sighed. He climbed down into the training chamber and sat down next to Cal, who had started getting to his feet, but hesitated with his Master's close proximity.

“Are you alright?” the Lasat asked. Cal sat down again. His arm and leg throbbed, but the pain was only a minor annoyance.

“I failed you, Master,” the human boy whispered.

But Jaro Tapal was already shaking his head. “By giving up, you only fail yourself.”

The implied condemnation stung, and Cal winced. “I wasn't giving up,” he muttered, but the lie rang hollow, and Tapal's disapproving frown proved that Cal wasn't fooling anyone.

“The Force is capable of great feats,” Jaro reminded Cal. “It is your own closed mind that limits your success.”

“You're saying I expect to fall, so I do?”

Jaro nodded once. Cal tilted his head back to look up at the still-floating platforms. He wanted to say that it wasn't his fault, but he knew that it was. A better Padawan would've succeeded.

Master Tapal sighed heavily. Cal winced. “You're disappointed in me,” he accused.

Jaro shook his head, but he took a long time to think carefully before he answered. “I am worried that you miss the point of this lesson,” he finally said. “Tell me, do you think it was ever about your ability to reach the observation chamber?”

Cal slowly shook his head, and Master Tapal wrapped his furry arm around the boy's shoulders. “Failing in a mission does not make _you_ a failure, Cal. We Jedi have failed many times in these Clone Wars. And the troopers themselves could tell you that war is not an art that lends itself to easy success. You can do everything right and still lose. If you allow such things to break your morale, well, perhaps then, you are not cut out to be a Jedi.”

Cal's heart squeezed tightly in his chest, and he tucked his knees up close to his chest. “I have to be a Jedi,” he demanded, his eyes imploring Master Tapal. “I don't know how to be anything else.” He'd been raised in the Jedi Temple since infancy, like all of them. If he couldn't be a Jedi, what else was there?

But Jaro Tapal was smiling. “Calm yourself,” he told Cal. “If I didn't think you could do this, I wouldn't have chosen you as my Padawan.”

“Okay,” Cal said slowly.

“Close your eyes,” Tapal ordered. “Let us meditate.”

Cal did as he was told. Meditating too, was hard. There were always so many distractions, and even when he managed to steady himself, it seemed there was a swirling darkness within the Force itself that he feared to touch. But he couldn't afford to let Master Tapal down again, so he focused on his breathing, deep inhalations and exhalations that slowly calmed him, and allowed him to open himself up to the Force.

He opened his eyes at Jaro Tapal's gentle urging, perhaps a quarter of an hour later. “Did you see anything?”

Cal shook his head. He was no stranger to Force visions, but they usually came when he touched things, picking up on the ancient stories that everyday objects carried with them through the galaxy.

“Did you?” he asked.

Master Tapal looked at him quizzically, but then shook his head. “We should be arriving soon,” he finally said. “Go and prepare yourself.”

“Yes, Master,” he whispered, the fear of failure still clinging to him like an unwelcome ghost. He retreated to the quarters he shared with his Master, and started filling his backpack with things he would likely need on the mission. They were going to Bracca for trade negotiations, but still, Cal reverently held his lightsaber in his grasp, before clipping it to his belt.

Then he headed for, not the training room he'd left behind, but the cockpit, where he could watch the ship's arrival into the star system.

On the way, he watched the troopers, as Master Tapal had suggested. One of the commanders flashed him a grin and offered his fist in greeting. Cal bumped it with his own, and then settled back on his heels.

“I see you're excited to land,” the clone commander said. Cal nodded.

“Can I come with you?” he asked. “On the planet, I mean.”

“That's up to your Jedi, isn't it?”

“Sure,” Cal agreed. But he didn't sound happy about it.

“Don't worry, kid,” the trooper said, reaching down to ruffle the boy's hair. “I'm sure you'll find plenty of excitement down there.”

Cal knew that the clone squads were tasked with destroying Separatist infrastructure down on the shipbreaking world. That seemed much more worth worthwhile – and more _fun_ – than standing quietly behind Master Tapal as he negotiated with the Scrappers' Guild. But he ducked out from under the trooper's hand – he wasn't a _child_. Instead, he saluted the man. And the clone commander saluted back. Cal smiled.


End file.
